Nailed It
by poppets
Summary: Derek has a thing for marking Stiles. Stiles decides it's time to return the favour, but first he needs a good set of nails. [Pairing: Sterek. Tags: Established Relationship, Marking, Scratching, Claws, Nails, Kinks, Fluff, Humor, Nail salons, Fake Nails]


A/N: Who knows where this came from! Little crackfic-y. Read at your own peril.

* * *

"Seriously, dude? Stiletto nails?" Scott groused, squirming to get comfortable on the high, nail salon stool.

Stiles rolled his eyes and continued flicking through the colour options. "You didn't have to come with me. You could have stayed home and finished that report you've been complaining about for weeks. But no, you insisted on it." Stiles pitched his voice ridiculously high, "Let me come with you, man. We never get any bro time any more. I don't care what you're doing. I won't get in the way, I just wanna tag along." Stiles huffed. "Well I'm getting my nails done so you can just deal with it." He flashed a smile at the patient nail technician. "Ok Vicki, I'm going to go for 'Fishnet Stockings'."

"Good choice," she smiled, organising her equipment and getting down to business. "Now, how long are we thinking for the stilettos? Were you leaning to more of a short, classy point or a full-on dagger point?"

"Well this is the first time I've ever had fake nails, so a full stiletto is probably out. I think I'd like something a bit shorter, more like a sharp little claw on each finger."

Vicki chuckled. "Claws I can do," she said as she set to work.

Stiles watched, mesmerised, as his nails began their transformation.

"You never told me what on earth possessed you to do this?" Scott eventually piped up, his tone was all adorable confusion. "You've never cared about your nails before. Why the sudden desire for fake stilettos?"

"I'm planning to surprise Derek with them."

"Boyfriend?" Nicki piped in.

"Yep," Stiles grinned, popping the 'p'. "I still don't know how I managed to land him, he's so far out of my league."

Scott's eye roll was so dramatic it was practically audible. "You badgered the poor guy until he finally gave in out of sheer desperation."

Stiles poked his tongue out at Scott. "I'll have you know, I am goddamn adorable. Anyway, you're just jealous because you could never score anyone that hot."

"Uh, I really can't judge his level of 'hotness', Stiles. Not into dudes remember."

"Pfft! Hot is hot, regardless of what's hanging – or not – between their legs."

"Oh, eww. Please don't make me think about Derek and things 'hanging'."

Stiles valiantly ignored Scott's excessively dramatic fake retching and focused his eyes on the magic currently being worked on his nails. The acrylics were in place and the first layer of deep red polish was being applied.

As Stiles slid one hand under the UV light to set the first coat, Scott piped up again, seemingly recovered from his Derek induced nausea.

"I know I'm going to regret asking this, but when you say you want to 'surprise' Derek, what exactly do you mean?"

"I mean, that I want to dig them into his ass cheeks while we're fucking."

Nicki let out a surprised bark of laughter, but kept her focus locked on her work.

"Oh, ick! Seriously, dude, I only just recovered from the last bout of nausea."

"You asked, I answered. Not my problem you've got a sensitive stomach," a smirk curved Stiles' lips, "and after all those years of listening to you wax poetic over the softness of Allison's skin, the delicate curve of her earlobe, and the symmetry of her toes, I think it's my turn to gross you out."

"Ok, ok. I get it," Scott swallowed roughly, drawing in a steady breath, "just please try not to traumatise me too much."

A laugh burbled out of Stiles' mouth. "No promises, dude. Traumatising you is half the fun."

Scott reached out and shoved Stiles in the shoulder, sending him sideways and nearly off the stool.

"Hey, dude, watch the nails!"

"Oh, shit. Sorry, man."

Nicki inspected her work and smiled. "It's ok, no harm done."

With his usual single-minded focus, Scott dragged them back on topic. "Ok, so you've told me what you want the nails for, but you haven't told me why?"  
Scott was like a dog with a bone – Stiles mentally high-fived himself for that amazing pun – when he got an idea in his head.

"Turns out that Derek's a bit of a scratcher in bed. I'm forever ending up with red welts down my back or along my chest or deep crescent marks on my hips. His nails are all natural," Stiles arched his eyebrows meaningfully at Scott who winced in horrified realisation of what Stiles meant by 'natural' nails, but nodded his understanding, "but they leave some pretty impressive marks behind, you know."

"And you, ahh, want to give him a taste of his own medicine?"

"Kinda." Stiles shrugged. "Derek seems to really like the marks he puts on me – spends a lot of time kissing and licking them after, and I'll often catch him staring at them any time my shirt rides up the following few days – and it made me wonder: how would he react if I marked him in the same way." Stiles examined one half-finished hand, "and since I bite my nails it's not like I can give it a go."

"You could just grow your own nails out."

"Seriously? Have you met me before, Scott?! That could take weeks and you know I have absolutely no patience."

"True. You do have the same level of self-control as a puppy when it sees something it's not allowed to chew."

The smirk Scott sent Stiles' way suggested he thought he'd landed a devastating blow to Stiles' pride. Joke's on him though, Stiles thought that was the best compliment Scott had ever thrown his way – puppies were hella adorable.

"All right, we're all finished here." Nicki nodded towards Stiles' hands. "Take a look and make sure you're happy with the finished product."

Stiles twisted his hands from side to side, checking out the shape and the length, pressing his thumb to one to test the sharpness of the point. "You, my good woman, are a genius." He carefully drummed his new nails on the bench top, delighting in the sound as the nails connected with the hard surface. "These are fucking epic."

"Bloody hell, Stiles, they look lethal."

Stiles clenched one fist tight, digging the nails into the soft flesh of his palm. A naughty smile curved his lips as he took in the crescent marks left behind. "Perfect."

The nail technician caught Stiles' attention, waving her hand in front of his face to break through the awed expression. "Can I give you a couple of tips before you go?"

"Please do."

"Ok. First, I'd suggest avoiding wearing clothes with buttons until you've got the hang of the nails. These nails can make it pretty tricky to undo buttons, particularly if you're trying to do it in haste."

"Ooh, good tip. Don't want any embarrassing mishaps in the midst of hanky panky."

"Hanky panky, dude? What are you, 90?"

"Shut up, Scott." Stiles turned a smile back to the nail technician. "Sorry, please ignore my uncouth friend. What else should I know?"

"Your new nails are pretty sharp, so just be a little careful with them, especially near your face. Poking yourself in the eye is not a fun experience."

Scott's tortured groan overrode the conversation. "I knew this was a bad idea. We're gonna end up in the hospital, and then how are you going to explain an eye patch to people? You are the most accident-prone person I know."

Stiles huffed. "I'll have you know that I'm perfectly coordinated.

Scott goggled open-mouthed at him. "Since when?"

The strength of the glare Stiles levelled in his direction would have felled a mere mortal, but Scott just kept on talking. 'Damn invulnerable werewolves', Stiles thought, 'doesn't even have the decency to look mildly singed from the heat of my finest glare.'

Taking Stiles' lack of rebuttal as acknowledgment of Scott's truly epic observational skills, he pressed home his advantage. "You dropped your keys twice trying to unlock your car last week and ended up concussing yourself on your wing mirror when you tried to pick them up, and just yesterday you tripped over a single blade of grass and practically cartwheeled trying to stay upright. If Derek hadn't been there to catch you, you would have face planted straight into the dirt."

Despite their comparable heights, Stiles managed to look down his nose at Scott. "Maybe that was my intention all along, did you think about that? By pretending to trip, Derek was able to play knight in shining armor and save me – the love of his life – from harm. It was positively romantic."

Scott appeared to be choking on horrified laughter, but at least it shut his big mouth up.

Stiles turned back to the nail technician. "I'll be sure to be very careful with these new beauties. Is there anything else I should know?"

"Just one last thing. You mentioned that you were looking forward to, uh, trying out your new nails with your boyfriend."

"Mmm," Stiles nodded his agreement.

"Well, the nails are quite strong, and I put an extra layer of top coat on to build up their toughness a bit, but they can still snap if you are, um," she seemed to be searching her mind for the least explicit term possible, "enthusiastic in their use. So, just be a little careful as it does hurt when they break."

"Definitely noted. Thanks for everything, Nicki. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon. I can't wait to tell you how they performed." Grinning and waggling his newly adorned fingers at her, Stiles exited the salon, an ashen-faced Scott trailing after him.

The nail technician shook her head, completely bemused by the whole experience. This would definitely be going in the books as one of her weirder appointments.

* * *

Scott caught up with Stiles in the car park; he was fumbling to unlock the jeep's doors, the nails an unfamiliar obstacle. Sighing, Scott jerked the keys out of Stiles' hands and nodded towards the passenger door. "Get in, I'll drive."

"Dude, I can totally drive. Give me back my keys."

"Get in the car, Stiles." Scott growled.

"Fine, whatever. You don't have to flash the wolf at me, Scotty-boy, it doesn't intimidate me."

"And yet you're allowing me to drive your precious baby." Scott's smile was all nauseating triumph and Stiles itched to wipe it off his face.

Injecting as much boredom into his voice as possible, Stiles made a thorough inspection of his new nails. "Maybe I'm just letting you drive. I don't want to risk damaging my nails before I get a chance to score them across the taut skin of Derek's perky ass cheeks."

Stiles was forced to brace a hand against the roof of the jeep as the vehicle swerved suddenly across the road, before Scott wrestled it back into its lane.

"Fuck, dude. Don't do that!" His glare threatened to burn a hole through Stiles' face. "And stop laughing. I would survive if this thing crashed, but you certainly wouldn't."

Stiles wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "I don't think I ever realised you were this squeamish. Is it sex in general or just Derek-specific sex you're afraid of?"

"I have no problem with sex. No problem at all. Sex is awesome. Thinking about Derek and sex is just, ugh. It's Derek, you know. Derek! All bossiness and grown-up and growling and glaring. It's like talking about your parents having sex. Blech!"

"Oh my god. This is the best thing ever. You are so pathetic, Scott. You realise that we're not 15 anymore, right? Adults do like to have sex too – even grumpy ones."

"Yeah, well, I just don't need to know about it."

"Come on, man. You can't give me ammunition like that. It's like you've handed Lex Luthor the key to your kryptonite stash. You know I'm going to have to torment you mercilessly now."

Scott's "oh god, what have I done?" was delightfully pitiful.

Stiles tapped his new nails against the jeep's dash, keeping time with the song on the radio and delighting in the sharp little clicks.

"Now don't worry, Scott. I know how curious you are about my new nails, so I'll be sure to message you right after we try them out to tell you how it went." Stiles quirked an eyebrow at Scott. "I'm composing the message already. Dear Scott, you'll never believe the noise Derek made when he came. I had his cock in my mouth and as I raked my nails down his chest he exploded, uttering this delightfully tortured moan."

Scott's claws had popped and were currently gouging chunks out of the steering wheel. "Oh god, I think I'm going to be sick."

"Or maybe, it'll be: Dear Scott, Derek definitely likes my nails. He was already fucking into me so hard, but when I dug my nails into his ass the pinpricks of pain seemed to set him off and his thrusts grew so desperate and deep."

"Stiles, please, I'm begging you, no more."

Stiles dissolved into peals of gleeful laughter. "Ok, ok. I'll stop. You're too damn easy to tease."

Scott rolled his eyes. "I love you, man, but I honestly don't understand how Derek puts up with you."

Stiles smiled softly as he examined his nails, "The things one does for love."

End.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed!

I'm thinking of writing a part 2 as it seems a little mean to tease you with the prospect of smut and then not deliver it. lol

Let me know if you'd like to see how Derek reacts to Stiles' 'surprise'.

Oh, and if you were wondering, "Fishnet Stockings" is a real nail polish colour. It's a deep, blood red. I had a lot of fun selecting a colour based on its name. Alternative options were: 'It's raining men', 'Beauty marked', 'Cherry on top', 'Drop the gown', and 'Hear me aurora'. Someone out there has too much fun naming nail polish colours.

Comments and thoughts are always appreciated.


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